The Burden of an Artist

by bluestar20337

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Romance, Tragedy
Length: 1897

Prismatic is a new pony in Ponyville hoping for a new life. She is settling down in her new home and is making friends, and even has a romantic relationship with a certain crimson earth pony.

Prismatic is a new pony in Ponyville hoping for a new life. She is settling down in her new home and is making friends, and even has a romantic relationship with a certain crimson earth pony. Will her unmentionable past catch up with her and send her new life crashing down around her?

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-08-23 09:00:03 UTC

Welcome to Ponyville

The train pulled into the station with a groan. The train door opened partially as an inquisitive head was stuck out of it. The train door opened. A head was stuck out the door Seeing no one around, the golden pony opened the door all the way and stepped out onto the station platform. The warmth of the sun began to soothe her nerves. The slight breeze stirred her navy-blue mane as she took in her surroundings. She closed her eyes, her mind busily processing the information she just took in. She opened her eyes and sighed to herself. "This is my home now," she whispered to herself. "It seems so peaceful here."

As if to prove her wrong, a pink blur tackled the entranced mare. As the golden mare recovered from the overwhelming tackle, she opened her eyes to see a pair of blues eyes staring right back at her. They were framed by pink fur. "Hi! I'm Pinkie Pie. You're new here, huh?  I know you're new because I know everypony in town and I don't know you; so you must be new. What's your name?" Pinkie jumped off of her, and landed to the left.

The pony stood and shook herself from head to tail tip. "I'm Lem- I mean, my name is Prismatic." At this, Prismatic mentally shook herself. She had almost let her other name slip through, and this was only her first day in Ponyville. She had better get used to going by her new name quickly, or she was going to be in trouble.

"Wow, That's such a fantastic name," Pinkie shouted. She bounced up and down excitedly. "Now follow me. I'll show you through the town, and then we can throw a big welcome party for you," Pinkie continued this speech for a few minutes, still bouncing in the same spot. Prismatic started tapping her hoof in hope that the over excited pink pony would notice. Unfortunately she didn't. Prismatic then took a step back from Pinkie. Pinkie bounced forward to close the distance.

"I would like to look around the town myself, please," Prismatic uttered, interrupting the other mare. Pinkie Pie frowned and looked down sadly. She almost looked like she was about to cry.

"Well . . . All right, if that's what you want." Pinkie sauntered away, her head lowered.

Prismatic felt bad for turning her offer down, but she didn't want to be bothered today. Today was the start of her new life;Prismatic simply wanted to relax by herself. Tomorrow, she would take on the task of making new friends. Prismatic trotted off of the train platform away from Pinkie. Prismatic sighed, and started making her way to the town. She needed to find her new home before the day ended. Hopefully the movers had already been there and moved her few belongings into the house.

Prismatic meandered through the town, looking at the address of each place she passed, hoping that it would be hers. Prismatic sighed heavily as she came to a halt. She couldn’t seem to find the place. She looked around and picked a new direction, and began to trot in that direction. Prismatic soon began to think of her old life.  As much as she wanted to leave it behind, she couldn't. Her thoughts always returned to what she had endured, and the ponies that she had left behind. She soon began to compare them with her new experiences in Ponyville. “The ponies here are so nice compared to my old home,” she thought.“No one even cared enough toknowmy name there, and here, ponies want to throw me parties. I feel so welcome. Too bad I had to turn down Pinkie Pie on her offer, though. Ah well. . . I just hope that I don't have to get rid of-” Prismatic's thoughts were interrupted when she saw a carmine-colored pony pulling a cart full of apples down the street. She stopped in her tracks. She was almost hypnotized by the way his muscles moved underneath his fur. She mentally shook herself and began to blush after she realized what she was doing. Bowing her head so no one could see her blush, she galloped quickly away. "That was. . . surprising," she thought to herself. Nothing like that had happened to her before. Nobody had ever caught her eye.

Prismatic soon found her home. It had a huge glass window in the front. Prismatic wanted to open an art studio to make money. This place would be perfect for her. She unlocked the front door and walked in. It was apparent that the movers had been here; there were unopened cans of paint laying all over the floor and the front counter. The walls in this room were left white, as she was wanting to paint the walls herself. She trotted past the counter and through a door in the back. There was a kitchen area filled with appliances. Most were stainless steel.  She continued through her new home, passing the bathroom and the living room. She reached the room in the very back; her new bedroom. A new bed had been placed in the corner of the room. A desk was on the opposite wall. There was a small window above the desk. Prismatic stretched and yawned. She was surprised that she was so tired. Train rides combined with hyperactive ponies simply drained her energy, even though she had slept part of the way through the train trip.

Prismatic took off her saddle bag. She pulled out an old stained book. It had a tan cloth covering on it, with darker brown stains covering it. Some of the pages shared the staining that was on the cover. A lock was on the front cover of the book. She slipped the book underneath the pillow on her bed. She couldn't leave it anywhere else. It was special. If anyone read it, she would have to get rid of them. Same as she did the others. She let out another yawn. Prismatic slipped underneath the covers on her bed. She curled up and went to sleep.

Painted Perfection

My mother bought you for me a long time ago, and you've just been languishing in my drawer ever since. She wanted me to write down what I had been feeling at the time. I didn't want to. It hurt to much. But now my mother, the only person who supported me, is gone. There's no where else for me to turn but this book. My mother raised me by herself. My father abandoned us before I was born. There's no one left. Looks like you'll be my little accomplice then won't you? Of course you will. You have no choice in this matter. I'm not quite sure how to do this thing. Am I supposed to just write about what comes into my mind as I write this? I'm not sure...Looks like I have to figure out how to start this then. Well, how should I start this? Dear Diary? Hello Journal? I don't know just...I guess I'll just start telling you about myself then. Not like there's much to tell really.

My name is Lemondrop. I am an adult earth pony. I went to school like every other pony. I found learning fun, but I dreaded going to school. Hell I hated going out in public with out my mother by my side. When she was around the other children weren't cruel. Without her by my side, they would make a large circle around me and call me blank flank. They called me worthless. They said I would never have my special talent.  At this point, I was the only one without a cutiemark. I don't know whats wrong with me, but I still haven't been able to get my cutiemark.

I've been living alone since my mother passed away two weeks ago. She was a wonderful mare. She helped me through some of the toughest moments in my life. I love and miss her. Sometimes I just start crying thinking about how she died, you know? Well, you wouldn't know would you? You're just a book. Mother passed away from a struggle with tuberculosis. She had put up a good fight in the end, and we thought she was going to kick its ass. We thought she was getting better until she took a turn for the worse. I remember crying into her shoulder as I lay next to her. She slipped into the after life while I held her. Mother was the only one who cared for me.

What makes it worse is the other ponies are still teasing me. They know my mother is dead, and yet they continue with their childish games. Thing is, I'm really good at painting. I know it's not quite normal for an earth pony to do anything that involves delicate and intricate tasks such as drawing or writing, but I've found a way to paint with out having to have magic. My tail works perfectly as a paintbrush. In fact sometimes the tip even changes colors depending on what I had been painting that day. I'm the most talented artist in this shitty little town and still no cutiemark. I would be able to make a good living off my work, but no one wants art from a blank flank.

The whole town seems to have been influenced by my tormentors. I started to notice when my mother had sent me to the marketplace to buy various vegetables for dinner. As I was paying the different shopkeepers, who knew me by my name, they all called me blank flank. This hurt me deeply. I ran home that day. I cried into my mother's shoulder. I thought that I could get away from the mockery if I avoided the other foals, but even the adults were starting to pick up the accursed nickname. It had gotten to the point that wherever I went, all I heard was blank flank. And you know who started all of this? O'riley, Cherry Cordial, Sunfall, Mocha Frappuccino, and Golden Charm. They're the reason everyone refuses to call me by my name. They only know me as blank flank. It happens so often that I sometimes forget that I have an actual name, the one my mother gave me. I am her Lemondrop.

But now, they'll have to call me by my name. They'll have no choice. I have to be careful while the paint dries, but I now have a picture perfect cutiemark upon my flank. Nopony will be able to tell the difference between my masterpiece and the real deal. I now have the perfect cutiemark for an artist, a palette and paintbrush, ready to be used at a moments notice. I spent hours working on this, trying to make them match perfectly while looking at my flank in the mirror. The work was difficult, but I was able to complete it. My very own cutiemark. The tormenting will finally end...The years of crying myself to sleep...No one caring when I actually accomplished anything...The teasing. All of it will stop tomorrow. And now...I'll earn their trust. They'll finally accept me... They have to accept me now. I'm just like them. Then I'll make them pay for every insult they hurled my way. Every tear that I had shed. They'll regret ever calling me blank flank.